


"Your kiss is like a lost ghost"

by grantairc



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, The Iliad - Homer, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Agender!Patroclus, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hipster!Achilles, I'm Bad At Summaries, M/M, Please be nice, Reincarnation, Slow Build, This is my first work, idk i came up with this in class instead of doing my work, nonbinary!Patroclus, panic attack tw, patchilles - Freeform, patrochilles - Freeform, tw: abuse, tw: panic attack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 06:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3436472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grantairc/pseuds/grantairc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Title from the song Past Lives by Ke$ha)<br/>Reincarnation!High School!AU</p><p>"It was almost like a story unfolding in their head, an out-of-order story that Patroclus didn't understand, and, frankly, didn't want to.  They didn't like this story and had enough to deal with regarding their own life, thank you very much, and they didn't need to worry about some fucked up Ancient Greek storyline with a version of them who got more action and loved deeper than real life Patroclus ever had."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Patroclus is agender and their pronouns are they/them/their :)

They didn't remember when the dreams had started, only that they'd had them for as long as they could remember, and they never made any sense.

It was almost like a story unfolding in their head, an out-of-order story that Patroclus didn't understand, and, frankly, didn't want to.  They didn't like this story and had enough to deal with regarding their own life, thank you very much, and they didn't need to worry about some fucked up Ancient Greek storyline with a version of them who got more action and loved deeper than real life Patroclus ever had.

But they would be lying if they said they didn't love that feeling, of loving and being loved by the alluring man.

Alas, it wasn't real, so none of it mattered, and Patroclus just wanted the dreams to stop.

 

~~**~~

 

They were in their sophomore year when whispers of a new kid filtered through the halls of the school, and even Patroclus, perhaps the most secluded person there, couldn't escape the rumours.  Though that could be due to being friends with Briseis, sweet, love-obsessed, somewhat lonely Briseis, who Patroclus trusted with their life and was the only person they had come out to about being agender and pansexual.  It wasn't like they could come out to anyone else; they didn't exactly have an abundance of friends, and their dad would likely disown them if they did.

She nudged them when they were on their way together to their next class.  "Look.  There he is," she said.

Patroclus followed her eyes and started.  Was that....?

No.  It was impossible.  They were just dreams.

Still, they were shockingly similar.

They both had the same long, dark hair with a few golden strands that Patroclus couldn't tell if they were natural or bleached, pulled into a messy bun, the same high cheekbones, the same golden honey-coloured skin, the same long, dark lashed framing angular nut brown eyes, the same dusting of freckles all over the skin they could see, the same thick eyebrows, he same large, pink lips, the same dark stubble....  God, he was gorgeous.

Patroclus felt a strange feeling of longing crawl up their stomach, their chest, their throat.... The only thing they could compare it to was what they had felt in their dreams.

Those piercing yet gentle eyes met Patroclus's russet ones and widened a fraction, almost as if in recognition, and Patroclus froze in the middle of the hallway.

It _was_ impossible, wasn't it?  The only place they had ever _maybe_ seen the new boy were in their dreams, _which weren't fucking real_ , so there was no way either of them should be able to recognize each other.  Right? 

"Patroclus!"

They were brought out of their trance-like state by Briseis's voice.  They met her eyes.  "Yeah?"

She tugged their arm.   "You're blocking the way _and_ we're going to be late for class, come _on!_ "

Patroclus mentally shook themself and hurried to class with Briseis.

 

~~**~~

 

His name was Achilles, Patroclus discovered later in the physics class they shared.  He had come from New York City, and he liked good music, Ancient Greece (Patroclus's heart had skipped a beat when Achilles said this; that was where the dreams took place), and anything vintage.  Briseis had scoffed after he had introduced himself.  "Fucking hipster," she murmured, doodling on the edges of her paper.

Patroclus snorted softly.

 

~~**~~

 

As the semester went on, the dreams got more and more vivid, and if the other man hadn't been Achilles before, he definitely was now.  Patroclus hated their subconscious.

At school, Patroclus learned more and more about Achilles, though they never spoke.

Briseis had been right; Achilles was a fucking hipster.  He had a pack of cigarettes in his worn shoulder bag that Patroclus caught a glimpse of once.  He loved old music.  He hated the status quo.  He didn't seem to want to fit in, but did anyway, because he was hot and rich and from New York.

Achilles was charismatic, and good at being in the spotlight, and though he didn't seem to strive to be in it, Patroclus could tell he enjoyed it.

He was smart, and one of the honors students in the class.

He liked making people happy, something Patroclus found all kinds of adorable, not that they would ever admit it aloud.

He stuck up for others.  If an argument broke out, he was quick to diffuse it, and typically took the side of the underdog.

He was strong.  Those muscles definitely had the power to kill a man.

He loved wearing plaid.

According to Briseis, he had joined the school's GSA.

He also seemed to enjoy staring at Patroclus, for reasons unknown to them.

He seemed overwhelmingly nice, and the kind of person Patroclus might want to be friends with, if they weren't lonely, socially awkward, and having those dreams about him.

 

~~**~~ 

 

The school year left without incident, and for three long months, Patroclus didn't have to look at Achilles every day.  Instead, they only saw him at night, when their head hit the pillow and their eyes closed.

 

~~**~~

 

It wasn't until halfway through the next school year, when they were both juniors, that the two had an actual conversation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't know, IB is kind of like AP, but more intense, and you get college credit for it because they're basically college classes, and you can only choose to take it in junior and senior year. :)  
> Also, TW for mentions of abuse.  
> Also also, TW for a death, but a flashback death so it doesn't count.

It was nearly winter break when Patroclus and Achilles first spoke.  They had IB English together.

Patroclus had decided to go full IB. Well, they hadn't so much decided for themself as been prompted, to put it nicely, by their father.  Their father, who had wanted a perfect child and had gotten the flawed Patroclus instead.  It wasn't that they didn't try; they tried as hard as they could to be perfect.  They got straight A's (though at this point they couldn't help but wonder if it was because they cared or because they knew their ass would get beat if their grades dropped), they had joined track (and promptly been told to quit by their father because they weren't good enough), they were going full IB, they took care of their crippled mother...

They still hadn't come out as agender or pansexual because they knew it would be one more big disappointment and might lead to them getting disowned.

They tried, they tried so hard, but it wasn't enough.

Patroclus wasn't perfect, and their father was sure to remind them of that at every opportunity.

 

~~**~~

 

Patroclus was exhausted and stressed.

IB courses were harder than they had expected, and Patroclus had pulled many all-nighters studying and finishing projects and papers.  It wasn't that the loss of sleep that was too bad.  Sure, they were exhausted the next day, but they didn't have to deal with the dreams.

On top of that, the night before Achilles spoke to them for the first time, their mother had been hit in the head hard enough to have to be admitted to the hospital, so they hadn't slept that night, either, and were running on five hours of sleep from two nights before.

Perhaps that was why they had fallen asleep in class. 

 

~~**~~

 

The only way they could tell it was a dream at the time was by the sweltering heat (Oregon rarely got hot weather before spring, and never that hot), the sticky, heavy leather armour on their body, and the man that could be Achilles's twin pressing his hands to their chest.

"Be careful," he was saying.

"I will," Patroclus said, their mouth moving without their permission.

When they were younger, it was an odd, dysphoric feeling, to be trapped in their own body with no control over the words or actions or even thoughts, sometimes, but they had long gotten used to the feeling.

They were going to battle.

A plethora of emotions had dropped to the pit of their stomach and lay there like a heavy weight, nervousness and excitement being the most powerful.

Everything after passed in a blur of adrenaline, the burn of working their muscles, and the scent of sweat and blood and dying flesh.  They were hyperaware of every detail at the time, though when they awoke, they couldn't remember half of it.

What they could remember, what they always could remember when they had this specific dream, was the god Apollo rising above the battlefield, of meeting those pitch black, emotionless eyes, of armour coming undone and falling, of crashing to the ground, of their head cracking against the hard dirt and rock of the battlefield, of a feeling of panic rising up their chest, through their body, of trying to run, of a spear piercing through them, of pain and panic and blood, of a man coming to finish them off, of it getting harder to breathe.

Of thinking of nothing but Achilles as the life left him.

 

~~**~~

 

They woke up with a gasp, their head thudding on the hard wood of their desk.  It hurt more than it would ordinarily, because they felt like the head wound they had attained in their dream was real.

There wasn't enough air.

They tried gasping in lungfuls, but as much as they could take in still wasn't enough.

They needed air. 

Their body ached, especially where they had been stabbed in the dream.  They looked down, half-expecting blood to be all over them, but there wasn't.

They couldn't breathe.

People were staring.

People were calling their name.

Someone touched them, and they instantly flinched away.

There wasn't enough air.

"Breathe, Patroclus," a familiar voice said, far too calm and gentle than Patroclus felt was appropriate for the situation though at the same time the exact amount of calmness and gentleness they needed right then.

Patroclus peeked up at him.

Achilles.

There wasn't enough air.

"Breathe with me, okay?  In and out.  Watch me."

Patroclus's eyes obediently went to watch his chest rise and fall, and tried to match their breathing with his.

There wasn't enough air.

"You're doing great, Patroclus, keep watching me.  Breathe."

Patroclus nodded slowly, trying to resist the urge to take in large gasps of air like he had been doing.

After a few long minutes, Patroclus's breathing finally got under control.

There was enough air now.

They slowly straightened.  "Sorry," they murmured, not meeting Achilles's eyes and staring down at their hands.

"It's alright.  Are you okay?"  Why was he being so kind?  They didn't even know each other.

Before Patroclus could respond, their teacher said, "Why don't you take Patroclus to the office and ask if he can go home?"

They flinched at the word 'he.'  No one noticed.

"Sure.  You ready to go?"  Achilles smiled gently at them.

Patroclus slowly gathered their things and rose.  Their legs felt weak, but they could manage.  They'd stood on worse.

Once they were in the hall, Achilles asked if they were okay again.

Patroclus nodded and kept their eyes on their feet as they walked.  Now that they weren't having problems breathing and panicking, they realized just how embarrassing that was and how illogical they had been.  They also realized they couldn't go home, or their father would be angry with them.

"Do you want to stop and sit down for a minute?"  Achilles's voice was still genial and soft.

They hesitated before nodding again.

Achilles led them to the stairs and sat on the top step.

Patroclus sat next to him warily.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said, meeting their eyes.  He seemed genuine.

Patroclus shook their head.  "It wasn't your fault."  Unless the dreams were real.  But they weren't.  Besides, Patroclus was fairly certain they had volunteered themselves.  "I was the idiot who fell asleep in class."

"You should sleep when you get home," Achilles said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"If I go home, I'll have too much schoolwork to catch up on."

"It's half a day.  You can handle it."  Patroclus had heard those same words before, said by Briseis in an exasperated tone, but Achilles just sounded concerned.

Patroclus sighed and looked at him.  "You don't know me.  You don't know how I'll do."

"I know you're smart," Achilles said.  "I know you're taking full IB.  I know you love animals.  I know you like keeping to yourself.  That's part of the reason I never talked to you before," he admitted sheepishly.  "You seemed like you liked being alone.  I always wanted to get to know you, though."

Patroclus was surprised.  It had never occurred to them that anyone, especially Achilles, would want to get to know them.  They were unattractive, boring, studious.... What was there to like, really?  "Oh," they said eventually, realizing Achilles was waiting for him to respond.  "I wanted to get to know you, too."  It wasn't a lie.  They hadn't really thought about it before, but Achilles definitely intrigued them, and the reason they had tried to avoid him before was purely because of the dreams.

Achilles grinned.  It was the kind of smile that was slightly too big for him and lit up his whole face.

He was beautiful.

And Patroclus couldn't help the small smile that appeared on their face in return.

After a moment, Achilles said, "Are you really not going to go home?"

"I can't bother my father at work," Patroclus said.

Achilles sighed, the smile gone.  Patroclus wanted it back.  "Okay.  At least skip the rest of this period.  The janitor's closet by the art room is a good place to nap.  It's almost always unlocked, and no one uses it."

Patroclus blushed.  "Thank you."

"You're welcome.  Here."  He took Patroclus's hand.

They started in surprise.

Achilles pulled a silver Sharpie out of his pocket and scrawled a series of numbers on their arm.  He smiled at them.  "Text me sometime, yeah?"

Then he stood, and disappeared back into the classroom.

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is unbeta'd, tell me if you find any mistakes. constructive criticism is always appreciated as well :)

**Author's Note:**

> hmu @ exprincepatroclus.tumblr.com


End file.
